Vain, vain that glorious privilege to me,
I am a slave, where all things else are free.


Yet was I born, as you are, no man's slave,
An heir to all that liberal Nature gave;
My mind can reason, and my limbs can move
The same as yours; like yours my heart can love;
Alike my body food and sleep sustain;
And e'en like yours--feels pleasure, want, and pain.
One sun rolls o'er us, common skies surround;
One globe supports us, and one grave must bound.


Why then am I devoid of all to live
That manly comforts to a man can give?


To live--untaught religion's soothing balm,
Or life's choice arts; to live--unknown the calm,
Of soft domestic ease; those sweets of life,
The duteous offspring, and th' endearing wife?
To live--to property and rights unknown,
Not e'en the common benefits my own!
No arm to guard me from Oppression's rod,
My will subservient to a tyrant's nod!
No gentle hand, when life is in decay,
To soothe my pains, and charm my cares away;
But helpless left to quit the horrid stage,
Harassed in youth, and desolate in age!